I don't remember how I died.
But I know I was younger than the rest.
Far too young.
They all had stories to share—
I didn't.
Just silence.
At night, strange things visit this place.
Terrifying things
that shouldn't be named.
And I hide,
hoping they won't see me.
In the morning,
people come to visit graves.
Crowds, sometimes.
And I sit among them,
watching them do
whatever that they do.
They do, something.
Sometimes, I wish I could follow them.
Feel the love they give their children.
But I'm afraid—
afraid of becoming a lost soul,
the kind they whisper about.
So I play instead.
With animals.
With birds that visit this place.
But mine—
mine remains untouched.
Dusty.
Empty.
Forgotten.
Where is my family?
I don't think they forgot me...
but why didn't they come?
Not even friends.
Did I… have none?
Why didn't the gods come
to take me to the afterlife?
Was I a bad person?
But one thing I do know—
I'm free now.
Free from the cage of life
that mortals are still trapped in.